Finally Real
by Sonata18
Summary: Set at the beginning of Mockingjay. When Katniss visits District 12, she doesn't just visit her own home in the Victor's Village. She takes the time to visit Peeta's home too and comes to terms with her feelings for him a little too late.


**Set at the beginning of Mockingjay. In the book Katniss visits District 12 and her home in the Victor's Village. This is my take on if she visited Peeta's home too. She has a realization she should've came to terms with when Peeta was still with her! Forgive any typos and hope you enjoy!**

 *****someone reviewed and made a very good point about something I didn't think through all the way. The painting I describe of katniss and peeta's picnic doesn't fit with the timeline - when would he have painted that and how would it be at his house? I apologize and am being lazy in not changing this tidbit. I instead hope you'll forgive me and overlook that detail! I'm sorry! And thanks for pointing that out!*****

Maybe I shouldn't have gone back for my father's hunting jacket after all. As comforting as it is to me, it's not helping me much now as the stench of President Snow's rose fills my nose, causing fear and panic to rise up inside me.

Even though the house has been checked for danger, I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched. And even if that's not true, that it doesn't matter because Snow will find me eventually anyways.  
I back out of the room and dart down the stairs, leaving the foul artificial smell behind me. I grab my game bag, ignoring Buttercup's muffled growling, as I rush onto the front lawn.

I know it's time to go. It's not safe to linger here too long. But I find myself dropping the game bag on the lawn and briskly walking away from my own house. I hear Gale's voice asking me where I'm going, saying that we have no time left. I take my headset off and cast it aside. I'll surely be scolded for such a move later on.

As I come to the door, I almost wish for it to be locked. To give me an excuse to end my visit now. But it's not locked. And why would it be? He never planned on returning here anyways.  
I push into the living room and am immediately enveloped in his familiar scent. Peeta.  
I never bothered to visit Peeta's home before. We weren't talking much at that point, what with me crushing his feelings after the games and all. That's something I sorely regret. But the layout is the same as mine, so I shut the door behind me and ******* force myself forward.

Even though it's been a long time since he was here, I see traces of him everywhere. A book he was reading, laying on the couch. Paint brushes, rinsed and left to dry by the kitchen sink. A pair of his boots neatly placed beside the front door.  
I wander around aimlessly until I reach his study. Only it doesn't look like a study anymore. Studio is a better word.  
An easel stands where his desk most likely was; the desk is pushed into a corner and barely visible underneath piles of canvases and paint supplies.  
I recognize some of the paintings from our victory tour, now back at home, lining his walls. Others are new to me. Like the painting of Peeta and I on the roof of the training center, a picnic strewn out beside us as we enjoyed our last days before the Quell. I wish I could go back to that day right now. I think back to Peeta's smile and his warm, easy laugh. Then I think of where he is now and what he might be facing and a pit forms in my stomach. Coin was right about one thing. They should have saved Peeta first.

I retreat from his study and make my way up the steps to his room. Looks like he didn't bother making his bed before our last reaping. I can even see the indent in his pillow where his head lay on his last night here.

Not caring how much time I'm taking up or who all is impatiently waiting on me in the hovercrafts above, I crawl into Peeta's bed and pull his pillow against my cheek. I breathe in the smell of his shampoo and vanilla and cinnamon. Of his paints and the tea he sometimes drinks before bed to help him sleep. And all of a sudden I'm sobbing.  
Wet, hot tears rolling down my cheek and onto his pillow.  
How could I be so foolish? I should never have let him out of my sight that last night of the Quell. How could I let gentle, kind, strong, selfless Peeta be taken by the Capitol? And how, of all things, could I be so blind to my own feelings until this very moment, when I'm sure I'll never see Peeta again?

The tears flow and I'm sobbing so hard now that my body shakes and it's hard to breathe. I'm clinging to his pillow, my entire body curved around it, wishing it was him I was holding instead.  
I don't know how long I lay there crying until exhaustion takes over. I probably could keep going, and would, if Gale's soft tread didn't snap me out of it.

He looks so out of place standing in Peeta's doorway, my game bag slung over his shoulder.  
His face is a mask of calm as he takes in the scene before him. But his eyes can't hide the hurt he feels seeing me like this.

"Katniss, we have to go," he says softly.

I calm myself as best I can, but I know my face must look a mess still. Puffy eyes, runny nose. Oh well. I don't care who seems me like this at this point. I just want the ache in my chest to go away. I just want Peeta back.

"Gale," I start, but Gale shakes his head and cuts me off.

"We don't have to do this, Katniss."

"I know I said that I was confused and needed time to think of how I feel," I continue on, ignoring his objection.  
I need to say it. Need to put an end to the waiting game I've been forcing Gale to play.

"You weren't confused though, were you? Just stubborn. Too stubborn to admit that he's the one." Gale replies, his gazed fixed on me.

His words surprise me. "Why would you say that?"

"Because I know you, Catnip." His voice is softer now. Heavy with the hurt I'm causing him. Will I ever stop hurting the people I love?

"I know you never planned on being with anyone. You always said so. And I know that having feelings for him took you by surprise. It's foreign and new to you, so you didn't trust it. And rather than admit you were falling in love, you brushed it off as confusion. Because that's how stubborn you are."

I lower my eyes to the pillow still clasped in my hands. I feel my face reddening in shame. Normally my temper would get the best of me and I'd lash out at Gale for telling me what I'm feeling. He's exactly right though, so I swallow my pride and simply nod in reply.  
"I'm sorry." I'm sorry for a lot of things. For losing Peeta. For rejecting Gale, ultimately hurting my best friend. "It doesn't matter though, does it? The Capitol has him and he'll never know it was real."

Gale sighs tiredly. "You don't realize how important you are to this rebellion. You could demand for Peeta to be rescued and I bet Coin would at least try."

I snap my head up to meet his gaze once more. He's right.

They want me to be their Mockingjay and up until now I haven't had the slightest want to. But if there's any chance they could rescue Peeta, I'll be the best leader of the rebellion they've ever seen.

"Thank you for that," I choke out, tears threatening to return.

He walks into the room and extends his hand to me. "We really do have to go now."

I nod and take his hand. I keep hold of Peeta's pillow. It's coming back with me. If I can't have him with me now I'm at least going to have this small piece of him to comfort me at night.

The flight back to 13 is quiet. No one bothers me. I know I must look a wreck, but I feel better than I look. Now that I've accepted what I feel, what I've felt for a long time now. I at least have hope that Peeta can be saved, where before I felt hopeless and hollow.  
I drift off as we fly away from what's left of my district. I breathe in Peeta's comforting scent as I fall asleep and dream of him coming home to me soon.


End file.
